


The Art of Asking Questions

by hbub1201



Series: Learn as they Go [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Banter, Difficult Billy Bones, Humour, M/M, Tricksy Flint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hbub1201/pseuds/hbub1201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could happen after the meeting with Blackbeard. Billy and Flint getting ever more comfortable with whatever is happening between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Asking Questions

"I meant what I said."  
Startled, Billy turned around to address the man he hadn't notice exit the tent behind him.

"What the hell are you talking about Vane?" Billy asked tiredly. The meeting with BlackBeard had been tense to say the least. The older Captain had pushed all of Flint's buttons, hit every raw nerve and scratched at every open wound. For his part Flint had kept his promise, he had flattered and admired and pretended he wasn't sitting there just waiting for an excuse to shove his pistol down the other man's throat. Billy had been surprised, and oddly proud, of Flint for that alone but his captain had gone one better and even let BlackBeard 'goad' him into a fight. He'd known the fight was coming from the moment they sat down, Flint had too. It was always going to end with a test of physical strength, but letting the older man think he had successfully manipulated the situation couldn't hurt their cause.

Of course, getting Flint to actually lose a fight was a hard task, almost impossible in fact, because after several rounds of both men refusing to back down, broken bones and blood flowing freely, Billy had finally had to intervene and call it a draw. BlackBeard refused to acnowledge this outcome, punching Flint one last time and knocking him to the ground and declaring himself the victor. Captain James Flint was sat in the dirt and he needed to stay down, Billy knew this, the crowd gathered around them chanting knew this, BlackBeard and Flint knew this, but no one expected it. And at first it looked like they would be proved right. Flint had spat out the blood pooling beneath his tongue, he'd shaken off the hit and the fall and he'd moved to hurl himself back up to face his opponant. Then, as quickly as the motion had started, it ended again when he'd looked up and his eyes had locked with Billy's. He looked to his bosun like he had been doing all day and he remembered all of the promises they had whispered to each other the night before. All the plans they had made and the ways in which they'd need to fulfil them. So the Captain dropped back into the dirt, looking to the taller man as he fell, eyes not breaking contact for a second. He fell as BlackBeards men cheered and hollared and congratulated themselves and their captain and James Flint let it all happen. Scowling like he didn't know he could have stood at any moment and carried on. Sighing from the ground like a beaten man but glancing up to Billy like a hero.

The bosun had smiled at his captain then. His own victory dance, a small congratulations and a big thank you all rolled in to one and in no time at all the younger man had closed the distance between them and lowered his hand to offer Flint some help up.

After the crowd had dispersed, after BlackBeard had agreed to think on Flint's terms and Billy and his captain had begrudgingly let go of the others hand, finally the Walrus crew could breath a bit easier as the day started to wrap up into a suitable conclusion. BlackBeard had insisted on a private moment with the rival captain and so Billy had made his way across the beach to discuss payment with the other crews accountant.

"Back on the ship," Vane elaborated, stepping out of the shadow of the tent and looking up with a smile. "When I asked you to join my crew."

"You didn't ask me anything," Billy countered argumentatively, "You said you wanted men like me, that you were looking for true pirates, of which I was one."

"Is that not asking?" The shorter man retorted back, raising his eyebrows at the younger bosun.

"How shocking it is," Billy quipped, "That Charles Vane doesn't know the difference between asking and telling."

A burst of surprised laughter shot from the troubled sea captain, "You're not scared of me," he smiled cockily.

"Why would I be?" Billy asked back seriously.

"Most are."

"Most people we come into contact with are startled by their own shadows."

Another laugh, although this one was more smug than surprised. "There is also a difference between scared and startled."

"And yet I am neither." Billy casually replied.

"So once again I ask why."

"You didn't ask a first time, just implied that I should be."

"Perhaps you should be."

"I'm not."

"Why?"

Vane looked an interesting mix of curious and amused so Billy snorted his own laugh and shook his head. "I've known worse men than you."

"Flint?" The shorter man shot back immediately.

Billy stared at him for a moment, trying gauge where this conversation was heading, if it was a trap he would have to avoid falling in to. "Flint is both better and worse. I have known people who are only worse."

"And were you scared of them?"

"No," the bosun replied honestly.

"Why not?"

Billy sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Because at the time of my acquaintance with them I didn't care much whether I lived or died. Didn't care if it hurt or if it was quick. Didn't even care if I saw it coming."

"And now?" Vane asked seriously, the humour lost from his voice as he circled around Billy to lean against the structure of the tent. "Do you care if you live now?"

"Yes," Billy replied quickly, "But I learned a long while ago that being scared of what might kill me will not make it any less likely to."

"It might help you to avoid it?"

"Do you avoid the things you're scared of Vane?"

"Perhaps there is nothing for me to avoid?"

"Then we are arguing the same point."

Vane smiled at the taller man stood next to him, arms folded high across his chest and eyebrows arched in challenge.

"Vane!" A tall man shouted as he ran towards the pair still standing against the tent. "BlackBeard's looking for you, he wants to discuss what comes next." The mystery intruder gave Billy a pointed snarl as he looked him up and down before nodding to Vane briefly and turning on his heel to walk away.

"It seems you have been summoned." Billy almost mocked, amused by the notion that Vane took orders from anyone, doubly amused by the fact that it must piss the other man off immensely.

"I meant what I said," the older man affirmed, looking seriously up at the younger man. "I need men like you on my crew."

Billy nodded slowly, eyeing the other man with speculation and hesitation. "I have a crew." He stated back simply.

"Well if you ever want a different one," The older man stated arrogantly as he turned to follow after BlackBeards retreating messanger.

 

-X-

 

"What did Vane want?" Flint asked cautiously as the two men walked back across the beach, finally ready to return to their ship

"He wants me to join his crew." Billy replied with no hesitation.

Flint laughed and nodded, his footsteps not faltering for even a second.

"And what was your response?"

"I told him I'd return tonight after you and the rest of the crew were asleep."

Another laugh, this time Billy answered it with a smile of his own and the two continued the walk back to the row boat that would return them to their ship.

 

-X-

 

"And?" Silver asked the moment Flint's feet touched the wooden deck. "How did it go?"

"That remains to be seen," Flint replied calmly.

Billy landed on the deck beside the Captain just as Silver was about to demand more answers, "He agreed to do nothing that would get in the way of our purpose." The bosun explained.

"Whether he sticks to that promise or not remains to be seen." Flint added, ever the optimist. "Did you fare as well?"

"We got it done." Was Silvers stern response.

"Any trouble?" Flint replied, eyebrows pinched in concern.

"Nothing we couldn't handle," Mr Scott piped up from behind Silver.

Both Billy and Flint followed the stoic mans eyes toward a couple of bruised and pissed off pirates sat with their arms tied around the side of the ship.

"We have hostages now?" Billy asked humourlessly.

"For now, though I'm certain that eventually they will be crew." Silver smiled back.

"Good," Flint snorted, "They can replace our wayward bosun."

"What?" Silver shot back, all eyes now on the captain, even crew members who had originally been ignoring the exchange in favour of pretending to tend to their duties had looked up at Flints words.

"Billy's joining Vane's crew." The older man stated matter-of-factly. "He's sneaking away after lights out tonight."

Billy's shoulders slumped in defeat as the crew pounced on him demanding answers. Flint laughed to himself as he maneuvered through the crowded deck and towards the dafety of his cabin, leaving Billy behind to deal with the angry mob. The masochist in him smiling wider in the knowledge that he would probably be made to suffer for that later.

Silver followed after the captain and shut the door to his quarters behind them. "Billy?" He asked curiously, wandering why Flint wasn't more angry at the prospect of an absconder.

The captain just looked up at the quartermaster with raised eyebrows and smirk.

"He's not going..." The one legged man surmised, Flint nodding his affirmation as he sank down into the seat behind his desk. "Why would you do that?" Silver laughed, knowing how many of the crew would be reacting to the possibility of the bosun leaving.

Flint just snorted and opened up a ledger from which he needed to draw plans.

"So how long do we give BlackBeard to change his mind before we move forward?" Silver asked seriously.

"We don't give him any time," the captain commanded, "We move forward as if we trust him to keep his word and we take advantage of the time it takes for him to make his mind up."

"And if he decides to cause trouble?"

"We'll deal with that when it happens."

"When? Not if?" Silver asked hopefully, to which Flint just looked up from his scribblings with his eyebrows raised as if to suggest Silver should stop being so naive.

"Ok, fair poin-" But Silver was interrupted by the slamming open of the cabin doors

"Thanks for that," Billy growled as he pushed his way in. "Ive just had to hand over several of my personal belongings as proof that I'm not planning to leave, and I'm pretty sure Joji is planning to handcuff me to my bunk the second I lay down."

"Righht..." Silver smiled, "Well I don't need to be here for this particular conversation," he mumbled happily, seeing the anger radiating off of Billy and knowing the smug smile on the captains face was probably not going to help appease him.

The quartermaster left the room swiftly as Billy stared Flint down, the latter not moving from his seat behind his desk but also not lowering his head to avert his eyes from those of the angry bosuns.

Flint's smile grew more arrogant as Silver hobbled through the door of the cabin and the second it shut after him all of the anger dropped from Billy's hunched shoulders as he too let a smile spread across his face.

"That was low, even for you." The taller man half shouted, half laughed.

"They think you're angry?" Was Flint's response as he stood from his chair and moved around his desk to lean against it.

"Oh they know I'm angry..." Billy growled, folding his arms across his chest and taking a step toward his captain. "They're angry," he expanded, "They think we had a fight and you want me gone."

Flint nodded minutely, without taking his eyes off of Billy, tilting his head to the side in an effort to gauge what was coming next.

"So," Billy carried on, another step toward Flint, "This would be us fighting it out."

Flint's mouth raised at the corners, his eyebrows lifting suggestively.

"Which means," the bosun continued, another step closer, "No one will be wanting to interrupt any time soon."

Flints smirk grew wider.

"If I didn't know any better," Billy muttered, just a few steps away now, "I'd say you planned it that way..."

Flint just shrugged innocently before leaning further back against the desk and tilting his head further to the side, shameless running his eyes up and down the length of his bosun's body.

"Son of a bitch!" Billy shouted as he darted forward to capture Flint's lips in his. Partly to carry on the illusion for any passing ears that they were fighting, partly just because it was true. Billy grabbed roughly onto Flint's shirt and dragged him forward into the kiss, simultaneously pulling the other man into him and pushing him back into the desk. Flint growled into the embrace, digging his fingers into the skin of Billy's arm and stomach so hard there would inevitably be marks there when they were finished.

Both men were releasing all of the pent up tension and anger of the day, pulling and grabbing at each other like they each held the answer. "I know how hard today was for you," Billy whispered a growl into the other mans mouth. Flint just nodded quickly, acknowledging Billy's words without either needing to expand on them.

Maybe he'd tell the younger man tomorrow that actually it wasn't that hard at all. That he'd just look over to Billy and suddenly, pampering the ego of that odious man, was the easiest thing in the world because he was doing it for no one else, not even himself. It was for Billy and for Billy he would do anything. Maybe he'd tell him all of it tomorrow, maybe he wouldn't tell him for another ten years, or maybe he'd never tell him but somehow, somewhere along the line the other man would just know. Whatever came next Flint didn't care at that moment, neither did Billy, far too preoccupied were they both with the feel of the other pressed as close as physically possible.


End file.
